Teenage Sorceress Part 1
Jenny Welker waited in the interrogation room for her lawyer, a public defender. Jenny was a beauty that looked like she had walked straight out of comic, an X-rated comic. She was 6'2", platinum blonde hair down to the bottom of her shoulder blades, and a figure of 44-20-36 with an L cup size set of tits.
She had been placed in the cell, but after a run in with some of the hard-core "cell lezzies", she had been moved to the interrogation room. The amazing thing was, at least to the guards, the lesbians in the cell were terrified of her. Some of those women in there were in for violent crimes like Assault with a Deadly Weapon and Armed Robbery. But they were terrified of this... powder puff. And no one would say why.
Jenny was still waiting patiently when her lawyer walked in. Jenny was amazed. Not that her lawyer was a woman, but that her lawyer looked like a smaller version of her. This woman was 5'4" and had a great figure, probably 36-26-36 with G cup tits. The biggest difference was the girl's brown shoulder length hair. The woman extended her hand. "Mrs. Welker, I'm Mrs. Daphne Newell. I'll be your attorney." Jenny took the woman's hand and briefly shook it. Daphne continued, "Now I've looked over your case and, to be honest, it seems to be a clear cut case of self-defense. The only problem seems to be your unwillingness to give the police your real name." "Jenny Welker is my name."
"But there's no Jenny Welker at the address you gave. According to DMV records, there's an Elizabeth Welker, Age 40, a Jeremiah Welker, Age 20, and a... Bambi Welker, Age 17. But no Jenny." Jenny smiled. "Don't worry about it. My mother, Elizabeth, is going to be home tomorrow. She'll get the message I left and I'll be out for dinner tomorrow." "I appreciate your optimism, but unless you give us your legal name, you're not getting out of here at all." "I'm afraid I no longer have a legal name, or identity." "What are you talking about?" "I'd tell you, but you wouldn't believe me." "Try me. You'll find I can believe a lot. If you're worried about me saying anything, you shouldn't. Anything you tell me is protected under attorney-client confidentiality. You can tell me anything."
Jenny gave a short laugh. "Why not? It's not like you're going to be allowed to remember any of it."
"Not allowed? Why not?"
"I'll tell you after my story. You see, I was born Jeremiah Welker, a man."
"You're a transsexual? Why didn't you get your identity changed?"
"I didn't actually go the normal route in my sex change. And this is kind of a long story, so please hold your questions to the end..."
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It started with a conversation I overheard between my mother and one of her friends. On the morning of the Saturday of my 16th birthday, I woke up early and couldn't get back to sleep so I wandered downstairs to watch some TV. There was nothing on TV, so I turned it off. That was when I heard my mom and somebody else in the kitchen. Now normally I'm not the type to eavesdrop, but I was tired enough and bored enough that my attention just latched on to what they were saying.
"I'm not sure I can go through with this," my mom said.
The other woman, whose name I'd learn later was Ann, said, "You have no choice. You know what will happen if he doesn't get the special training he needs."
"Yes, but I'm not sure he can handle what it would take to enter... our alma mater."
"He's a strong boy. Don't underestimate him."
"What about the Collegiate Brotherhood?"
"His potential is far too great for that. The Brotherhood would be the first to admit they don't have what it would take to train him properly."
"Who's going to handle... selling him on the idea?"
"Wanda."
"I don't think I've met her."
"She's good at her job. She'll help him through it, no matter what he may do or say."
Later I'd learn that they were talking about me, but at the time, I had no idea. I thought they were talking about my little brother, James. Where I would be starting my junior year in high school next Fall, at 13, he was a certified genius going into his first year of college. He was also an absolute terror, a real trouble maker. Mom had been thinking of shipping him off to a private school where he could get more private training, and perhaps some discipline, like a military school or the such, and I thought this was what they were discussing.
Well, I was getting hungry, so I got up and went into the kitchen, where mom and her friend were. When I got there, mom got a kind of guilty look on her face and said, "Morning, Jerry. You're up early. Happy birthday. This is Ann Smith, an old friend of mine."
Now had I not been so tired, I might have noticed something in the way they were acting, but was barely able to get breakfast together.
Ann asked, "So, birthday boy, what do you have planned for your... sweet sixteenth?"
I looked at her wondering why she had referred to it like that, but she just gave me a grin and a wink that made me think that she was just kidding around. "No big plans. I'm gonna go and hang at the mall with my friends."
"Which mall?"
"The Metro." I suppose I should've wondered why she was so curious, but I really wasn't thinking straight.
Mom said, "Son, I hate to do this on your birthday, but I'm gonna have to postpone your birthday dinner. Something's come up at the New York plant, and I need to head out of town for a while."
"How long?"
"A couple weeks at least. Possibly longer."
"Okay. I can take care of Jimmy for that long."
"Actually, I was going to take Jimmy with me. I wanted to check some colleges in the area."
"Oh, gee," I joked, "two weeks alone in the house. Can I handle my sorrow?"
Mom laughed, something she seemed to need. She winked, and said, "No wild parties, okay?"
"Of course not. Nothing more than... 40, 50 people."
"Oh, if it's only something that small, no problem." We laughed. You see, as irresponsible and problematic as my brother was, I was just as responsible and helpful. If I had thrown a party, it would have been small and controlled. Mom knew she had no problem leaving me alone in the house for a couple weeks.
After breakfast, I got dressed, then headed out to the mall. We walked around, doing a little shopping, but mostly checking out the babes. That was when I met her. I was walking past a women's clothing store when we bumped into each other. I wasn't paying attention to where I was going, and she was carrying so many packages, she couldn't even see over them. Well, we collided, and her packages went everywhere. "I'm sorry, it's all my fault," I said as I started to help pick up her packages.
"Nonsense, I shouldn't have been carrying so much at once."
Then I looked up into the most beautiful eyes I had ever seen. They were crystal blue and had the mesmerizing power of a snake. And when she smiled at me... I was hers for life. She extended her hand to me. "Hi, my name is Wanda Adams."
I took her hand and kissed it. Now I don't know whether it was her beauty or the fact that I had been so tired that morning, but I made no connection between her and the name Wanda that mom's friend had mentioned that morning.
I stood there dumbfounded for a few seconds before I got it together, and said, "My name is Jeremiah, Jeremiah Welker."
She smiled again, then looked away at her pile of packages. I was finally able to tear my eyes away from hers and look at the rest of her. She looked about 21, and her body was no less beautiful than her face. At 5'8", she was a little tall, but it didn't take anything away from her beauty. If anything, it made her more beautiful, like she was a supermodel. She had long red hair that went down to her butt. And what a butt it was. It was the kind of beautiful, round, perfect butt that you normally see only on comic superheroines. Her butt was at the top of the most astoundingly shapely legs you could imagine. Going up, her waist was small and shapely. Her tits were the only thing that really weren't perfect. Not that they weren't astoundingly beautiful, just that they were huge to the point of being out of proportion to her body. I later found out that she was a G cup, but that's getting ahead of the story. She wore a red jumpsuit that fit her figure like a glove and accentuated her already incredible beauty.
She sighed, looked at her packages, and said, "Now I guess I've got to take these out to my car."
"I can do that." I grabbed the pile of packages, which I could barely see over.
"There's no need for that. I can handle it."
